With a Y, not an I
by Skalidra
Summary: On a night home, while Jason is adding to the files he keeps, Jason and Dick get into a very serious, very important argument, with absolutely no teasing or good humor whatsoever. Is Dick's old organization Spyral, or should it be Spiral?
Hello! Another prompt for you guys; this one is number 85, Spiral. I couldn't help myself. All I could think was Spyral, and well, my own feelings about that name (minor though they are) might kind of be in this story. Though I stand by that Jason thinks them too. ALSO. THIS IS FLUFF. I CLAIM THE FLUFF TITLE.

No **warnings**. Fluff!

* * *

Honestly, there are times that Dick almost wishes he never came back from his enforced vacation.

Okay, no. He's _never_ going to be sorry that he's back with his family, no matter how weird things get between all of them sometimes. There's nothing like being back around all of them, and he regrets the time he missed. Regrets he wasn't there when Damian was resurrected, or when Bruce lost his memories and the rest of the family had to try and exorcise his ghost from their lives.

He knows how painfully hard that was for Damian, with no one to really lean on. Knows that Tim struggled with trying to balance everything as well, and that it might have been the easiest for Jason, when it came down to it. At least Jason had a team to support him; Roy's always been a good listener when things are bad. Steph and Cass didn't do too badly, from what he's heard, but then it can be hard to tell with Cass when things are going badly for her. Especially because she tends to cope by traveling across the world and generally staying away from whatever's upsetting her.

If he'd just been here, maybe he could have brought them all together. He's been Batman before; he could have taken the mantle again and kept the family strong while Bruce was out. It would have solved his identity mess too, a lot more smoothly than Spyral's whole deal with the satellites, which he's still pretty sure didn't work as completely as they advertised.

Which, speaking of…

"It's a 'y,' not the normal spelling."

Jason pauses in the middle of typing out the report, and turns to look over his shoulder. " _Excuse_ me?"

Jason's been filling out reports and details for his own files for a few days; basically cataloging everything that Dick's done while halfway across the world and working for a questionably moral organization. It's fair enough; Dick would want to know everything Jason had done too, if their positions were reversed.

" 'Y,' not 'i,' " he repeats.

Jason blinks, narrows his eyes, and then snorts. "Why the fuck is it a 'y'?"

He stops in the middle of the stretch, staring at Jason in his upside down arch, over the back of the couch. "I… It's Spyral as in spy. So yeah, 'y' makes sense, Jason. "

"That's dumb," Jason pronounces. "No. Bullshit. Give me a better reason. you guys were more assassins than spies, and besides, the plural of spy is spelled 'i-e,' so there goes your imagined 'sense' anyway. You were not a single spy."

He drops out of the upside down arch, rolling to his stomach and then pushing up. "Hey, don't call my old partners dumb. Helena was great! Terrifying sometimes, but great."

Jason rolls his eyes, but doesn't stop Dick from jumping up over the side of the couch and into a seat next to him. "You weren't there for the bronze beauty, Dick. I've seen your partners. Tiger's more your style, isn't he?"

"Well _I_ wasn't talking about sex. Why would you jump there, Jason? You wound me." He clasps a hand to his heart, plays up the dramatic flutter of his eyelash as he sprawls out, collapsing into Jason's side. "It's like you think I'm good for nothing else."

Jason's nose nudges into his hair, the laptop on Jason's knees getting carefully set aside to a safer location on the coffee table. "You're good for plenty. You _also_ like sex. You really going to deny that you either did or totally would have slept with either Helena or Tiger if they wanted to? And, you know, they weren't doing it out of some weird, 'I'm your superior,' disturbing spy tactic?"

He considers for a moment. A moment where Jason's arm slides around his back and tugs him into a little bit less of a sprawl.

"Okay, no. But it's Spyral-with-a-y because our faces do that spiral thing." He gestures vaguely at his face, and can feel the way Jason's chest moves as he snorts again.

"Your gear is called _Hypnos_ , and it's really more of a swirl than a spiral. That still doesn't give you a valid reason to misspell the word, though. Justifications; come on."

" _Jason_ —"

"No, no, now I'm _invested_." Jason pulls with that arm over his back, and he debates being unhelpful and floppy but ultimately decides that it's way better getting pulled over to straddle Jason's lap. "Come on, golden boy," Jason murmurs, hands finding his hips and lingering there. "Convince me."

Jason is smirking, and he echoes it with a smile and leans in, pressing Jason back with one hard hand to his shoulder. The kiss is as familiar as it is good, the flood of warmth in his gut not at all dimmed by the fact that he could kiss Jason in his sleep. Practice just makes perfect, and the way Jason's hands flex on his hips, fingers pressing in against the thin fabric of the sweatpants, prompts him to slide his free hand around the back of Jason's neck and tangle his fingers in the hair at the base of his skull.

When they finally part he lingers close, and whispers, "It's just _cooler_."

Jason nearly chokes on the sudden burst of laughter, and he takes every _second_ of it to enjoy the light to Jason's eyes and the easy joy in the sound. Jason is grinning by the time the laughter stops, one arm looping around his low back and tugging him closer.

"Bullshit," Jason claims. "That's like thinking that the utter mangling of Apokolips makes it a more evil place. Next thing I know you're going to start spelling Nightwing with an 'n-y-t-e' instead, or with numbers instead of letters, and I'm going to have to stop your evil reign before your influence spreads too far."

"Good luck," he challenges, and leans in for another kiss.

Jason meets it wholeheartedly, and then, when they part again to breathe, says, "For the record, I'm not spelling Robin with a 'y' either."

This time he's the one to nearly choke, and he has to bury his head in Jason's shoulder for a moment to get the laughter under control. Jason takes _full_ advantage to nibble at the side of his neck.

"Damian would _never_ go for it," he eventually manages to get out, and then Jason presses teeth and tongue to a sensitive spot just below his ear and he squirms. "Jason, that's _cheating_."

"All's fair," Jason whispers in his ear. "Another thing for the record; if you ever actually pitch that idea to Damian, I want to be there to see it happen. I can just _imagine_ the expressions and they are utterly glorious."

"Sadist," he accuses, teasing.

"Only a little." He can hear the grin in Jason's voice. "But I mean, if you _really_ want to sway me over to your side, there are other ways to convince me."

He leans back, meets Jason's grin and smiles at the soft fondness to those blue-green eyes. "Oh, we're going _there_ are we? I mean, I could just show you official documentation with the right spelling. With a ' _y.'_ "

"Oh yeah? You go ahead and produce those super secret spy documents then. Go for it."

He snorts, whacks Jason's shoulder with just enough force to sting. "It's going to happen. I'll convince you that I'm right."

Jason tugs him in an inch, doesn't even react to the swat to his shoulder. "I'm all ears, golden boy."

"You mean all hands."

"I like to think that my mouth does a good amount of the work too. _You're_ the one that's all hands."

"Jackass," he murmurs, and then has to pause and just look at Jason for a moment. Just to smile, and then lean in and brush his lips over his partner's. "I love you," he breathes.

The way Jason _smiles_ , soft and bright and _happy_ , is worth every single syllable. "Love you too. Bed?"

He considers, grins, bites a little bit at Jason's bottom lip to hear his breath catch. "Let's do couch. I mean, it's been awhile. Tim can almost sit on it without one of us feeling weird."

"God forbid," Jason says, that smile lingering. "Alright, but _one_ of us has got to go get lube now because there's no way I'm getting into this and then having to dart across the house buck-naked to grab it."

"Where's your spirit of adventure?" he teases, and Jason just _softens_.

"Babe, you're all the adventure I'll ever need."

Helplessly, with love burning in his chest, he smiles back.


End file.
